Making It Right
by NotMarge
Summary: Gloria Mott has always done her best to make things right for her precious little Dandy.


I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

But I am a mom. And this mom creeps the _beejeebers_ outta me.

Making It Right

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><p>Gloria Mott's whole life was built around making it right.<p>

Even now, as she clipped flowers and arranged them prettily in a decorated vase, she was making things right.

Just right.

It was what she did. For herself. To uphold the family legacy.

For her boy, her Dandy. To make him happy.

And she tried so hard.

He got the best, the _very_ _best_ of everything.

Whatever Dandy wanted, Dandy got.

Wasn't that what a mother was _supposed_ to do? Provide for her children? Make them happy?

And she was most certain she didn't want to find him swinging from a Japanese maple like his father.

So Gloria tried her best to make Dandy happy.

And it worked beautifully. When he was a little boy at least.

She bought him everything he wanted and brought him snackies when he was playing in his room.

If he broke a toy, she made sure he got a new one _and_ another in case he broke that one.

And when he became upset or irate, well, it was because he was such a _sensitive_ child.

She remembered the horse and smiled tightly through her swirl of mixed emotions.

The beautiful, lovely chestnut.

She had been so proud.

He was going to learn to ride.

A perfect little gentleman. Riding a horse. Perhaps in competing in equestrian events. Only the most prestigious and dignified ones, of course.

And little seven year old Dandy had been so excited, so _eager_.

He had been riding around proudly on his very first lesson, in his brand new riding outfit.

And he had _fallen_, her sweet precious boy had _fallen._

She had spent all that money on the best of trainers and the simpleton had let her baby boy _fall_.

He had skinned his elbow _and_ bruised his knee.

She had fired the trainer on the spot. How _dare_ he let her little Dandy _fall_?

And after she had the nanny clean him up, she had told him he wasn't to ride the horse anymore because it was too dangerous. She would sell it and buy him something else with the money.

Dandy, of course, was most bereaved at the news and been very, very sad for days.

His cries of anguish and despondency had filled the house, making her and the servants most unsettled.

His horse, he had said, it was _his_ horse, not hers to get rid of. He wanted _his_ horse.

So Gloria had the horse disincorporated and sent to taxidermist.

After spending a small fortune, the horse was placed in Dandy's playroom.

So he could have it forever and it could never hurt him again.

A rather clever decision, she thought. She had kept her son safe _and_ given him what he wanted.

After all, it wasn't always easy, being a mother.

She had kept to the old ways, the manners and traditions with which she had been raised.

It was Dora and the governesses and the nannies who raised him. And it was Gloria his mother, who provided for him.

She had thought she done rather well, all things considered. Especially all alone after Mr. Mott had . . .

She snipped a flower stem at just the proper angle and set the scissors on the table carefully, continuing to think back.

She had the servants keep Dandy's room, the house and the grounds just right. The food cooked just right, the way they should eat.

And Dandy always had the best of whatever he wanted.

Gloria knew the shortfalls and tribulations of being well-to-do.

Cousins married cousins to keep money in the family.

And that eventually led to complications along the narrowed family tree.

She and the Mr. Mott had gotten along fairly well enough.

Until, of course, the incident.

And Dandy, sweet, special Dandy. He was doing the very best he could, of that she had no doubt. If only he would cease . . .

But she swept that out of her mind and focused on her flowers arranging, humming as she worked.

She had taken him to church, every single Sunday.

They sat side by side in a pew right up front and Dandy always behaved himself perfectly. And after church she would buy him something nice to reward him for his troubles.

Lately, he had been developing stomach troubles that seemed to clear up by late morning so he hadn't been attending as regularly.

She supposed it would pass.

As Dandy had grown, it had become more of a challenge to keep him satisfied and content.

She'd taken him all over the world, to Paris, on African safaris, to London.

Shown him the best of everything the world had to offer.

Hoping it would help build his character, his interests, his tastes.

But he seemed, however, to have more, well, _exotic_ tastes than she might prefer.

She had no idea where he'd picked it up. Television, perhaps. Or the wrong type of music.

The bones of small animals kept being found on the property.

And the girls of the community sometimes complained on him.

And when she tried to speak to him, he would become agitated and break out in a _rash_, the poor dear.

As of late, she'd thought perhaps something a bit more bohemian would add to the flavor, so to speak of his life, brighten his perspective.

So she'd taken him to see the freaks.

And oh, he'd been so _happy_.

Until that uncouth German woman had refused to let them buy one to take home.

Ridiculous behavior, especially after she had offered so much for them.

After all, they were freaks. What could they possibly have better than what she and her Dandy could provide?

Dandy, who was getting bored again.

She so _disliked_ when Dandy became bored. He could be so, _unpleasant_.

So when she had seen the clown walking down the road, she had thought perhaps, he would brighten Dandy's gloomy mood as of late. He did have such an interesting smile and presence.

After all, children loved clowns, didn't they?

The only problem was, Dandy had the proclivity to grow weary of his toys after a while and discard them.

And so after a while, she noticed the clown was gone.

The clown was gone and Dandy was bored and Dora was, well . . .

Dora was no longer in their services.

Gloria sighed.

She had been so, so, _frustrated_ with Dandy.

It was so difficult to find good, dependable help these days.

And Dora had been with them for such a very long time. Such a waste of a good Negro.

She had been trying to think of a new interest for Dandy to partake in when that crass German woman had shown up on her doorstep. Gloria had been ready to send her away without so much as a 'how do you do', when she had heard her offer.

And she had thought to herself what grand playmates those two headed, one bodied girls would make for her boy. He had seemed quite taken with them at the performance.

Maybe, just maybe, they would make him happy.

And so now here they were and her Dandy _was_ happier than ever.

Gloria had high hopes for her handsome boy. High hopes indeed.

The phone next to her elbow rang and Gloria picked it up, speaking in her most cordial, refined voice.

To Regina Ross, the daughter of her former employee, Dora.

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><p><strong>Oh <strong>_**boy**_**, this woman is some afterschool special against permissive parenting, isn't she? I'm going to have to give my son extra chores just to reassure myself he won't become **_**that**_**! 'Son, you're almost ten. Go reshingle the roof!' haha. Just kidding.**

**Did you **_**see**_** the full size chestnut horse in his playroom? Come on, tell me that didn't just **_**beg**_** the story!**

**And nothing against church there. People like that went to church for good appearances back then. We go to church, my son and I, other the other hand, to learn about God and my son sure isn't turning into a brat or a serial killer so far. And I don't buy him off either. Anyway, no jibe against religion at all.**

**Okay, Dandy's pigeon-toed walk (along with everything else) just gives me the hebies **_**and**_** the jebies. It's so child-like in a grown up man's body. That actor's just brilliant with what he's doing with his character development. **

**And the rant about the girls floored me completely. I was like, how can something so beautiful and eloquent come out of such a psychotic person's mouth?! And then I ran and hugged my husband gratefully, to whom I have been married for 13 years and is definitely **_**not**_** a murderous psychopath (except in videogames).**

**Oh, and totally check out the picture I chose for this story. Now, whaddya think of _that_?**

**Anyway that's enough for now, I suppose. :)**

**Thanks to Jurana Keri, shyangel101, and shekishere for so graciously reviewing! **

**Everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.**


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